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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22837687">Don't Tell Them I Wrote Phan</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenBoudicatheGreat/pseuds/dont-tell-them-i-write-phan'>dont-tell-them-i-write-phan (QueenBoudicatheGreat)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Great Tumblr Migration [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, One Shot Collection, additional tags in authors notes, moving from tumble</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 14:54:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,478</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22837687</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenBoudicatheGreat/pseuds/dont-tell-them-i-write-phan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hi there! I'm deleting my Phan blog on Tumblr, but I wanted all my fics to be available to everyone still! This is just a one-shot collection of all the mini fics people requested over the years!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dan Howell/Phil Lester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Great Tumblr Migration [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641895</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Write Me a Story - Skylar Kerjil</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>These first three chapters are all based on songs people requested!</p><p>Warnings: Mentions of transphobic internet comments</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Dan said, his brow deeply furrowed and his mouth drawn down in a tight frown as he scrolled through the questions Phil had gathered from various YouTube comments. Answering Your Transphobic Questions had been Phil’s newest video idea, and Dan honestly felt a bit ill looking through some of them.</p><p>Phil laughed gently, and continued setting up the camera. “I mean, it was my idea,” he said breezily. “Besides, it’s not like this is anything new. I’ve been documenting my transition since 2006. If people aren’t used to it by now, I doubt they’re subscribed.”</p><p>“This is different!” Dan argued. “All of those videos were nice, this one is dragging up the worst part of the internet.”</p><p>Phil hummed thoughtfully. “I mean, not really. Sure, most of them dealt with triumphs, but there were more than a few that showed the harder side of being trans. Besides, I’ve been looking at comments like this for 12 years, they’re not saying anything I haven’t heard a thousand times.”</p><p>“This one asks if your mother is ashamed of you!” Dan said hotly. “Who even says something like that? If anyone’s mother should be ashamed, it’s theirs.”</p><p>Phil was frowning now, but Dan had a feeling it wasn’t about the comments. “Dan, listen. It’s going to be fine. I’m going to be fine. This video is gonna help a lot of trans kids, and it could also help ignorant people realize that they’re wrong. It’s okay. I’m telling you right now that it’s okay.”</p><p>Dan sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.”</p><p>Phil was grinning again, and playfully elbowed Dan in the side. “Even the most well-meaning cis-genders can fall into cisplaining.”</p><p>Dan rolled his eyes playfully, and shoved Phil back. A majority of the comments still made his skin crawl and his collar hot, but didn’t say anything else. It was Phil’s video, and at the end of the day, his opinion wasn’t the one that mattered. All he could do was listen. And so he did.</p><p>He sat just behind the camera and watched Phil film. His smile was bright and his wit sharp as always and Dan felt an odd feeling of pride welling up in his chest. He absently wondered what upbeat ukulele music Phil would use for the background or if he’d just stick to the usual stuff. He just sat quietly and offered gentle smiles every time Phil locked eyes with him. When Phil was done and let out a deep sigh as he rubbed his face, Dan slunk into the bed behind him and wrapped him up in warm arms and soft kisses. Phil chuckled, deep and warm like chocolate as he leaned into Dan’s hold.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Köln - Corey Kilgannon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: None! Other than Dan is a gross boy who snorts on his boyfrien's neck</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cologne was beautiful, Dan thought to himself, curled up in a cushioned arm chair as he stared out the giant floor to ceiling window that looked out over the rainy city. He was glad he and Phil had decided to come here for holiday. He’d been to the city before, but never like this. It was always business with maybe one day of freedom. Now they were totally on their own schedule. A rainy day was something to be enjoyed rather than cursed.</p><p>“Room service!” Phil sang, waltzing in with two steaming mugs. He stood on his tiptoes to lean over the back of Dan’s chair and gave him a kiss on the cheek and a cup of hot chocolate. With a bit of poking and prodding and giggling, ha managed to fold himself up on the chair right at Dan’s side. “Hello,” he grinned, looking extremely proud of himself.</p><p>Dan rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t contain the entirely too fond smile that curled over his lips nor the urge to lean in and kiss Phil’s giant beak of a nose. He laughed when those blue eyes he knew so well crossed to keep track of his progress. “So, rainy day, huh?” he said conversationally. “Kinda puts a damper on our plans for today.”</p><p>“It could,” Phil agreed, squirming to get into a more comfortable position. Dan wrapped his free arm around Phil’s waist and delighted in the contented hum he got in return. “Or we could talk to hotel staff and see about getting our stay extended for another day.”</p><p>“Aw, you’d do that for little old me?” Dan cooed, friendly mockery dancing on his tongue.</p><p>“Oh, absolutely not. This is totally selfish. Last time you went out in the rain, you caught a cold and I had to listen to you whine for a week.”</p><p>Dan snorted, which would normally be fine, but he’d been placing a line of kisses across the back of Phil’s neck at the time. Phil shrieked and frantically waved his hand behind his head to bat Dan away. “Karma, bitch. That’s what you get for making fun of poor sick Dan.”</p><p>“You’re the worst person in the world,” Phil whined, pressing his body backwards in a half-hearted attempt to squish Dan.</p><p>Dan just giggled a bit more, reveling in Phil’s warmth and closeness. Maybe they’d wind up sequestering themselves in their hotel room all day. Maybe they’d extend their spontaneous little holiday. Or maybe Phil would stand up in a couple hours with a bright spark shining behind his eyes and offer Dan a hand he knew he could never refuse. Maybe they’d run through the rainy city, slipping on cobblestone, getting lost in the winding streets, hiding under awnings pressed close together and smiling right in each other’s face like they were the only two people in the world. Or maybe they would step outside only to see grey clouds open up to a bright blue sky, leaving the air behind thick and warm with steam. Maybe Dan’s hair would poof up and curl even more than normal and Phil would do that deep chocolate chuckle and reach a hand up to gently tug one down, only to release it and watch it spring back into place. Honestly, Dan didn’t much care. All that mattered to him was that he could reach out and take Phil’s hand.</p><p>And he did.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Ghost of You - 5SOS</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings - Dan's a fukkin ghost, my dudes, which means implied character death :(</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mornings were the hardest part of Phil’s day. The bed was cold, and the blankets pulled stiff and neat on the other side. Cold even crept through his thin socks as he put his feet to the hardwood floors of the still unfamiliar flat. It was small, even smaller than the first place he’d ever rented. That suited him just fine. He wasn’t sure he could handle rattling around all on his own if it were any bigger. He’d been in this one for months, but it never felt like home. He doubted that anywhere would ever feel like home again.</p><p>First thing every morning was coffee. Nothing felt real until there was a mug in his cupped hands, always a little too hot to touch. He held it anyway. His hand hovered over a familiar mug. It was bright yellow and sparkly and had a name that was not his own emblazoned on the front of it in an equally bright blue. It was more used to housing tea and hot chocolate than the bitter coffee he was after. He gently pushed it aside and selected one covered in tacky palm trees. He had far more mugs than any one person would ever need, but he still clung to each and every one of them like it would make everything all right.</p><p>“You look like crap.”</p><p>Phil flicked his eyes to the bar where <em>He </em>was sat, bright eyed with a grin curling crookedly over his lips like he thought he was clever. Phil ignored him and continued making his coffee.</p><p><em>He </em>huffed and pouted. “You’re no fun anymore,” he informed Phil. “You used to talk to me. Now you refuse to even acknowledge my existence.”</p><p>Phil turned his head so <em>He </em>wouldn’t see him roll his eyes. He refused to give him the satisfaction. Instead, he shuffled to the lounge and curled up on his end of the sofa. It really needed to be replaced, but much like the excess mugs he couldn’t bring himself to part with it. There was too much history there. He turned on the television and settled down to watch some show he could never remember as soon as he stood up.</p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, Phil saw <em>Him</em> walk in, silently as he did all things these days, and curl up on the other end of the sofa. Phil’s heart ached at the familiar sight. He still sat folded up smaller than he had any right to, all long-limbed and lovely as he was, and stared at the TV. “You never watch anime anymore,” <em>He </em>pointed out about halfway through the episode. He glanced over at Phil’s end. “You know you’re like, allowed to, right?”</p><p>Phil gritted his teeth and took a long, deep sip of his coffee. He said nothing. He knew he’d be alone again in that awful blessed silence as soon as the caffeine made its way through his system. He just had to be patient. He could be patient. He’d had more than enough practice, after all.</p><p>“Phil, you’re not getting any better.” <em>His </em>voice sounded sad, so very sad. Phil felt sick to his stomach knowing he was the one who made it sound that way. “Is there anything I can do? Please. I can’t keep watching you live like this.”</p><p>Phil was quiet for a moment. He was quiet for a lot of moments. He’d always been quiet. The quiet was different these days. It used to be warm and comforting like his favorite duvet. Now it was thick and heavy and poisonous. Phil missed quiet. “I wish you would leave me alone,” he said. His voice was sticky and cracked in his throat. He realized with a start that it was the first time he’d spoken in days.</p><p><em>He </em>flinched like Phil had reached out and hit him. “I wish I would leave you alone, too,” he whispered. He glanced nervously at Phil, gauging his reaction. For the first time in weeks, he crawled across the cushions separating them and leaned against Phil’s side. Phil’s side was warm and curls tickled his neck. His heart sang and shattered at the same time.</p><p>They sat together in silence for a while. Netflix continued to play episodes neither were watching. The warmth faded from Phil’s coffee and the now-cold ceramic was sapping heat from his palms. The warmth faded from <em>His </em>body and the now-cold air was sapping what little heat remained in Phil’s heart. He stood up and shuffled to the kitchen to wash his cup.</p><p>He really missed Dan.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Sunshine Yellow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Woo! The next three chapters are all fics based on mood boards that I made for the colors people sent in, so they all have a fun picture with them!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings - Talk about anxiety and vaguely depression</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>Phil nervously looked around the stage area. Everyone was running back and forth, and it seemed nobody had time to answer any of Phil’s questions. He could feel his breath hitch in the back of his throat as he was once again ignored, but closed his eyes and did his best to calm down. This was <em>not </em>the place for him to have a panic attack.</p><p>“Hey, you’re Phil, right?”</p><p>Phil’s head snapped up and he saw a man wearing an official YoungMinds tee shirt smiling at him. “I, er, yeah, I am. How did you know?”</p><p>The man raised an eyebrow and a small smile plucked at the corner of his mouth. “Mate, you’re an internet celebrity and you’re asking someone how they know who you are?”</p><p>Phil blushed darkly as the man laughed, but even so the sound didn’t seem mean in any way. “Ah, sorry, should have guessed that. Um, what’s your name? You look really familiar.”</p><p>“I’m Dan,” he said. “Daniel Howell on YouTube.” When Phil still looked lost, he grudgingly added, “My old username was danisnotonfire.”</p><p>“Oh, I know you!” Phil beamed. “You used to Tweet me all the time! I didn’t know you started a channel!”</p><p>It was now Dan’s turn to blush. “Oh my god. You get thousands of Tweets a day, and you somehow remember my cringe thirst Tweets from years ago. How?”</p><p>“You were really cute and funny,” Phil said shyly. “I kept wanting to reply to you, but I always chickened out. Then you quit Tweeting me as much so I figured you had moved on, and it kinda slipped my mind.”</p><p>Dan beamed at him. “Honestly, that’s a nice ego boost. I started my YouTube channel about two years ago. It’s not super big or anything, but I talk a lot about mental health, so I like to think I’m doing something important.”</p><p>Phil nodded. “Definitely. I only just started talking about my anxiety this year after being on YouTube for over a decade, and it was amazing.”</p><p>“Is that what made you partner with YoungMinds?”</p><p>“Yeah. I’m guessing YoungMinds contacted you for similar reasons?”</p><p>“No, actually,” Dan said, shaking his head. “I was actually in a really bad place, and there was a lot of stuff that YoungMinds did that helped me through it, so I kind of wanted to give back. I started my channel basically just to promote YoungMinds at first, but it branched out after a while.”</p><p>“That’s amazing,” Phil beamed. “You said you just go by Daniel Howell on YouTube, right? I’ll definitely have to look you up when I get back home.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Dan smiled, and a pretty blush colored the apples of his cheeks. There was a loud buzzer and Dan looked up. “Oh, right. We’re supposed to be headed for the stage. Come on, I’ll lead the way.”</p><p>Phil nodded and allowed Dan to grab his hand and lead him away. His face was warm and his heart was light, and he knew this was the best decision he’d made in a very long time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Emerald Green</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings - Descriptions of violence and blood</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>Dan nervously paced back and forth across their small motel room. Phil had been gone almost an hour now, and Dan was getting antsy. He was jerked out of his pacing by a loud bang at the door. Without thinking, he grabbed the long knife off the desk, and ducked into position on his side of the door. Whoever wanted to get in may wind up killing him, but he was going to get some good hits in first. </p><p>He craned his neck up to peer through the peephole and saw Phil standing there with his arms full of food. Dan narrowed his eyes. “Who’s there?”</p><p>The man on the porch rolled his eyes. “Come on, Dan. We don’t have time for this. Just let me in.”</p><p>“Sure, I’ll let you in. Just as soon as you give me a halfway good reason why.”</p><p>“Phil” groaned. “My name is Philip Michael Lester. I was born January 30, 1987. Your name is Daniel James Howell, born June  11, 1991. We’ve been together since 2009, and you tell everyone that your biggest fear is existentialism and leading a meaningless life, but your real biggest fear is actually trees.”</p><p>Dan nodded to himself, and opened the door just wide enough for Phil to slip in. “What took you so long?” he demanded, rifling through the paper bags. One had a couple microwave meals for dinner tonight, and the other some staples for the road: peanut butter, crackers, granola bars. Dan grabbed the dinners and made his way to the shoddy microwave above the mini fridge and did his best to ignore the faint smell coming out of it. “How were the shops?” he asked conversationally.</p><p>“Crowded,” Phil shrugged. “Not too bad, though. Doubt I was followed.”</p><p>“Did you check?”</p><p>“Obviously. But sometimes things are sneaky.”</p><p>Dan chuckled. “Yeah. Remember that time in Lancashire?”</p><p>“Little too close for comfort, if you ask me,” Phil snorted. “Hey, who are you texting?”</p><p>“Louise,” Dan shrugged. “I haven’t talked to her in weeks and we’re ditching these phones tomorrow, yeah?”</p><p>Phil gave a soft grunt of agreement. “Just be careful, yeah? Don’t want to accidentally give something away.”</p><p>“Don’t worry, that’s the last thing you should be worried about.”</p><p>Phil opened his mouth to ask Dan what he meant by that, but the door was suddenly kicked open, and Phil found himself looking at another Phil, this one with a small cut over his eyebrow that was dripping bright red blood. “Dan! There’s a shapeshifter in–” He cut himself off and paled when he turned to Dan, only to see him holding a knife to his throat.</p><p>“Oh, I’m well aware of the shapeshifter,” Dan said calmly.</p><p>“Thanks for carrying in the groceries, by the way,” Phil said, prowling up behind him. “I really didn’t feel like dealing with them.”</p><p>“Constructive criticism: Your cadence was all wrong,” Dan grinned at him. “I’d tell you to be more careful of that in the future, but that won’t be a problem for you.”</p><p>And then everything was black.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Light Pink</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>Dan had only met him the month before when he was wandering the streets of Manchester at 11 o’clock the night before a major exam he knew he wasn’t ready for. His mother had always accused him of running away from his problems, but Dan knew the importance of getting out of a situation and getting a clear head. He just did it more often than he needed to. </p><p>He was about to head back to his miserable dorm when he saw it: an old swing set in slight disrepair facing a flower shop painted a soft, dusty pink to make it stick out from the plain white buildings surrounding it. Dan flopped himself down on the middle seat, and soon after the waterworks started. There was just something about the quiet Manchester street combined with the nostalgic feeling of swaying back and forth on a swing that just really got to him.</p><p>Dan was too busy sobbing to hear anyone approach him, so he was a bit startled when someone cleared their throat right in front of him. The first thing he saw through watery eyes was a pair of pink sneakers that almost perfectly matched the flower shop behind them. Connected to these shoes were a pair of very long legs that in turn connected to the torso of a man looking at Dan with obvious concern in his blue eyes. “Are you all right?” he asked in a low, soothing voice, every word carrying a distinctly Northern twang.</p><p>“I- Fuck- Sorry,” Dan stuttered, scrubbing the tears off his cheeks. “Sorry, I’ll just, um – I’ll just go now.”</p><p>Dan started to get up, but the man put a gentle hand on his shoulder and coaxed him back down. “I brought some tea. It’s got a couple spoons of honey in it, but no milk,” he smiled, offering Dan a thermos. “I’m Phil, by the way.”</p><p>“Thanks. I’m Dan.” He carefully took the thermos in both shaky hands and took a slow sip. The tea was sweet and bright and floral and the taste exploded over Dan’s tongue and filled his senses. “This is really good. What is it?”</p><p>“It’s a hibiscus rosehip combination I made myself,” Phil said, puffing out his chest. “I live just above the flower shop and I like to experiment making tea sometimes. I’m glad you liked this one, no other human has ever tried it.”</p><p>Dan sputtered out a laugh and looked at Phil who had taken the swing next to him. “What do you mean by no ‘human,’ exactly?”</p><p>“Well, my badger, Thor, really liked it, but she has low standards,” Phil grinned. Dan laughed again, and somehow, the world seemed a bit brighter.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Micro Fics</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Change of pace! This chapter is actually three micro fics in one because I'm too lazy to make new chapters for these drabbles.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Phil Gets Sick</strong>
</p><p>Phil hated getting sick. Obviously nobody <em>liked </em>getting sick, but he really hated it. He was constantly cold and aching and his already annoying headache problem was nearly unbearable. He hated being sick, so was it really any wonder that he refused to acknowledge it?</p><p>He knew he was getting sick one morning when he slept in later than Dan and woke up feeling like someone had over-inflated his skull. So, he did what he always did, and forced himself out of bed so he could down some paracetamol and a piping cup of tea and go about his day as normally as possible. This lasted until about 11 o’clock.</p><p>“You’re sick, aren’t you?” Dan accused after the third time Phil closed his eyes and leaned his head back to catch his breath while editing.</p><p>“What? No, I’m not!” Phil sputtered, a light flush rising in his cheeks.</p><p>Dan just narrowed his eyes, then flung himself at Phil. “Jesus Christ, mate, you’re <em>boiling</em>,” Dan gaped, hand pressed to Phil’s cheek. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”</p><p>“I hate being sick,” Phil whined, but let Dan lead him back to bed.</p><p>“I know, babe,” Dan cooed, pressing a kiss to Phil’s warm forehead. “I’m gonna go make you some tea and soup. You just rest.”</p><p>With that, he was gone and Phil already felt himself drifting back into the warm embrace of sleep. Maybe being sick wasn’t <em>that </em>bad<em>.</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>"Why Would You Do That?"</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Phil what the fuck?” Dan hissed as they sat huddled together in a cave. “You threw your fucking torch at it! Why would you do that?”</p><p>“I panicked!” Phil defended, keeping his voice low but unable to keep it from breaking and cracking in fear. “What were <em>you </em>going to do about it?”</p><p>“I don’t know! Probably play dead or something!”</p><p>“Owlman isn’t an idiot, Dan. He would have known!”</p><p>Dan froze and narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend who was peering out of the cave to look for their pursuer. “What did you just call that thing?”</p><p>Phil let out a huff of air. “Owlman. You know, half-man half-owl creature that lives in Mawnan Wood, the place where we are?”</p><p>“I know who the Owlman is, Phil,” Dan snapped. “But the Owlman isn’t real. It’s just a hoax put on by people, probably to drum up tourism.”</p><p>There was a loud screech just outside their cave and Dan and Phil clutched one another in fear. The moon cast a shadow on the rocks outside and they saw a humanoid figure approach before letting out another fearsome sound and spreading its wings to take off. They held their breath as it flew away and Phil turned to Dan. “That didn’t look like a hoax to me.”</p><p>Dan groaned and buried his face in Phil’s neck. “We’re never going camping again.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>At Least You're Happy Now</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Phil had always known he’d be at Dan’s wedding wearing a suit, smiling, and loving his best friend more than anything in the world. He’d known from the moment he met him. He’d known that Dan would spend months making sure that everything was perfect. He’d known exactly how Dan’s eyes would sparkle as he stood at the altar, having the best day of his life. Phil had known all of this.</p><p>He just hadn’t known he’d be the best man.</p><p>Phil’s tongue had turned to sand when Dan had asked him. Of course he’d said yes, how could he say no when Dan used that voice and looked like Phil’s answer would either crush him or make him soar? He’d hurt Dan in the past, there was no way he’d ever live with himself if he hurt him again. How could he?</p><p>So he agreed to be Dan’s best man.</p><p>Really and truly, he should have known. He and Dan had spent years pining for one another, but every time Dan plucked up his courage to try and start something, Phil would cut it off before it began. It just wasn’t the right time. Maybe next year when things were calmer. Maybe next month when the YouTube drama was down. Maybe maybe maybe. Phil hated the word. He loved Dan with his whole heart, and would do anything he asked, except this.</p><p>And Dan asked him to be his best man.</p><p>Matt was an amazing guy. He was a pediatric nurse who treated every child he met like a gift. He was massive, both in height and muscle, and looked like he could crush you without breaking a sweat, but his hands were so soft and gentle. He was quiet and kind to everyone he met, and he looked at Dan like the sun couldn’t compare. He’d always been nice to Phil, and Phil was the first person Matt told when he decided to ask Dan to marry him. Phil had smiled and told him to do it. A dark, secret part of Phil’s heart had assumed Dan would say no.</p><p>And now Phil is the best man.</p><p>Phil wouldn’t ever try to sabotage Dan and Matt’s relationship. He loved Dan more than words could ever say. He just spent as much time with Dan as he was allowed, and treasured every platonic touch and glance and smile. He loved Dan so much that it sometimes hurt to look at the other man, but he wouldn’t trade a moment of it. He’d do anything to make Dan happy because he loved him, and he knew Dan loved him, too.</p><p>Which is why he agreed to be his best man.</p><p>So, here he stood. It was Dan’s wedding, and Phil was wearing a suit, smiling and loving his best friend more than anything in the world. Dan had spent months making sure that everything was perfect. His eyes were sparkling just like Phil knew they would as he looked at the man he loved. It was exactly as Phil had pictured it.</p><p>But he wasn’t groom, he was the best man.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Pirate AU</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This one is a bit weird! I was writing micro fics and someone requested a fic that would have been too long for that so I wrote an outline  and a single scene. Also! If anyone wants to write this fic or something inspired by it, feel free! Be sure to post a link in the comments!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings - Very light depictions of minor violence</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Outline</p><ul>
<li>Dan is the pirate captain and Phil is the guard</li>
<li>So far, Dan has gotten away with everything because he only attacks ships of other countries and he’s never killed anyone, so the guard doesn’t REALLY care so long as he and his crew don’t cause mischief at the dock.</li>
<li>Dan and Phil meet and have had a lot of flirtatious banter when Phil’s arresting him for public drunkeness. </li>
<li>One day, Dan is framed for sinking a country ship, and when he gets to the dock, he’s arrested.</li>
<li>Phil, believing Dan’s innocence, helps him escape from prison the night before he’s supposed to be hanged.</li>
<li>The two of them are on the run from the government trying to figure out who actually sunk the ship.</li>
<li>They figure out it was another pirate captain Dan crossed previously in his life, and now they’re running from both the government and the pirate crews this captain has favor with</li>
<li>They manage to make it back to port and prove that Dan’s innocent, but Phil has def lost his job with the guard, so he joins Dan on his ship and they live happily ever after.</li>
<li>Obviously, Louise is the first mate and Darcy has the run of the ship because I make the rules.</li>
</ul><p>“Be careful out there today, Dan,” Louise warned, squinting out at the port town. </p><p>Dan frowned at her. “What are you talking about? We’re practically heros here, Lou. Nothing’s going to happen.”</p><p>“I don’t know, but there’s something afoot. Darcy and I are staying on the ship, and I suggest you tell at least most of the crew to stay as well.”</p><p>Dan sighed, but Louise’s gut had never led him wrong before. There was a lot of belly aching from the men left aboard, but Dan promised that if everything was fine in the morning, they’d all get to go. He took four of his men, and together they rowed to the docks. The wind was chillier than normal, and cut through their coats as they unboarded.</p><p>Dan immediately noticed something was wrong. Usually, when he and his men stepped foot on the dock, there was a group of people to greet them. Some trying to sell them the comforts of land, some trying to grab a peek at the goods they had brought back, and others still just looking for some excitement to spice up their lives. Today, the docks were silent. Dan even watched as a mother swept away her child that was staring at eyes wide in wonder. </p><p>“You four stay here,” Dan warned under his breath. “If there’s any sign of something going wrong, get back to the ship. Leave me. If you come after me, you will regret it.” The four of them nodded, and Dan felt their hawk-like gaze on his back as he walked into town.</p><p>“You’re awfully brave showing up here after the stunt you pulled.”</p><p>Dan whirled around to see Captain Marrow glaring at him, arms crossed. Beside him, a guard snorted, “Either that, or he’s just dumb.”</p><p>Captain Morrow’s eyes narrowed. “Howell is a lot of things, but he’s not dumb. Cuff him.”</p><p>“What? But I- This is outrageous!” Dan sputtered, but he was cut short by a burly guard sneak up behind him and knock him to his knees. “Whatever you’re playing at, Morrow, you’ll regret it,” Dan spat as his arms were yanked behind his back and into a pair of handcuffs.</p><p>Captain Morrow ignored him. “Daniel Howell, you are under arrest for the sinking of the ship the S.S. Carroway, and the murder of her crew. For your crimes, you will be publicly hanged from the neck until death. Order of the Queen, this day of May 21.”</p><p>Dan eyes widened. “Morrow, listen. I didn’t do that. You <em>know</em> I didn’t!” Captain Morrow remained stone faced, and Dan started desperately searching the crowd of guards that had begun to surround him. When he locked eyes with a pair of familiar blue ones, he surged forward. “Phil! I didn’t do it! You can’t let them do this!”</p><p>Dan watched in horror as Phil’s face firmed up into a mask of determination, and then the world went black as he was hit firmly over the head.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Stop Drawing on My Arm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Soulmates AU where whatever you write on your skin appears on your soulmate's. You know the drill.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings - None! Have fun with your soulmates!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everyone knew that when your soulmate drew on their skin, it appeared on yours. Some people were lucky enough to have soulmates that were incredibly talented artists who doodled masterpieces on themselves. However, most people just had shitty stick figures and grocery lists that appear, and they did their best to love them anyway.</p><p>Dan’s was somehow both.</p><p>Every day, Dan would wake up absolutely covered from shoulder to wrist in drawings and words, but they weren’t a work of art. They were all, to be quite frank, awful. Most of them were what Dan assumed to be various cats, but half the time, Dan couldn’t even make out what the piles of squiggles were, and the words weren’t poems or even grocery lists, they were seemingly nonsensical and random.</p><p>At first, Dan had been completely in love with them. After all, they were from his soulmate, how could he not? However, they were occasionally inconvenient. There had been more than one time where Dan had had to explain to a coworker or boss that, no he didn’t have a set of the world’s worst tattoo sleeves. Sometimes they were very brightly colored, forcing Dan to either be a beacon for attention as he walked down the street, or  wear long sleeves in summer. More importantly, it made it very difficult for Dan to forget about having a soulmate when he was trying to go on a date, which is what he was doing now.</p><p>He scowled down at his arm as another cat face appeared. He dug around in his desk drawers before coming up with a Sharpie, which he uncapped with his teeth and started furiously writing.</p><p>
  <em>can you stop drawing on my arm??</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>Oh hi! Honestly I didn’t think I had a soulmate as you’ve never written anything.</b>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>well theres not much room for me is there?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>Haha! Guess not. Why do you want me to stop?</b>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>because i have a date tomorrow.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>Oh.</b>
  </em>
</p><p>Neither Dan nor his soulmate responded for the rest of the evening, but at midnight the marks faded and Dan smiled and let himself fall asleep.</p><p>He was absolutely livid the next morning. He’d been covered from his jaw to his waist, some of them not even pictures, just scribbles in wild colors. He snatched up his Sharpie and started writing on his thigh.</p><p>
  <em>hey just wondering but wtf</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>:D Do you like them? I hope you do! &lt;3</b>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>i told you i had a date!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>That’s how life be sometimes</b>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>i hate you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>Have fun on your daaaattttteeee~!</b>
  </em>
</p><p>Dan scowled at the words, but couldn’t help but feel a smile quirking at his lips. Whoever his soulmate was, they had a sense of humor. Oh well, it was still cold out and he had a solid black turtleneck that actually looked pretty good on him. His soulmate wasn’t winning this round. The rest of his day was spent puttering around his flat and glaring at his skin when his soulmate made more additions to their shared art.</p><p>That evening, Dan was waiting outside the restaurant when he realized he had no clue who he was waiting for. He was about to take his phone out to text Louise when a hand covered in very familiar doodle tapped him on the arm. He looked up to see a man with very blue eyes smiling at him. “Hi, I’m Phil. You’re Dan. Right? Louise set us up?”</p><p>Dan blinked at him for a moment before grabbing his hand to yank up his sleeve. Sure enough, the patterns were exactly what he was expecting. “You’re definitely paying for dinner,” Dan laughed, pulling his own sleeve up.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. I Don't Wanna Be Your Friend (I Wanna Kiss Your Neck)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Teenage Phan dealing with teenage angst and have a drink or six to celebrate Dan's birthday. Also, they're on a roof</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings - Alcohol</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Summer nights were always Dan’s favorite. The air sweet and sharp on his tongue and thick in his chest like honey; the freedom of knowing there’s nowhere else in the world he needed to be; the hot, sticky feeling of his skin pressed against Phil’s as they laid together on his roof and pretended they knew what shapes the stars made. Then Phil would turn his head and his blueyellowgreen eyes would look into Dan’s and what little breath he had managed to take was stolen from his lips and back into the perfectly still air. Summer nights were perfect.<b><br/></b></p><p>That’s where Dan was now. Sitting on his roof in nothing but his pants and a singlet, waiting for Phil to show up. He was later than normal. Since they were neighbors, Dan knew Phil was home, but his tardiness didn’t bother Dan in the slightest. He knew without a sliver of doubt that Phil would show up in his own time. Being best friends since you were both in diapers helped that.</p><p>True to form, Phil appeared, first his head popping up over the edge of the roof to see if Dan was there, then the rest of his body following as he climbed the ladder. “Hey,” he said, the word soft and breathy as he panted through a grin.</p><p>“Hey, yourself,” Dan grinned, previously unnoticed tension melting from his shoulders as he settled in like a cat with a bowl of warm cream. “What held you up? Uni applications again?”</p><p>“Some of it,” Phil shrugged. “I got accepted into York, but there are still some things I have to get ironed out before I leave.”</p><p>“I’m gonna miss you,” Dan said. He’d said it quietly, so quietly he’d hoped it wouldn’t make it the distance from his lips to Phil’s ear.</p><p>“You could come to York with me?” Phil suggested, and it was just as soft and Dan wondered if he was meant to hear it. “They’re still accepting late applications and you have great A-levels.”</p><p>Dan snorted. “Nah, mate. I’m gonna stick with taking a gap year. I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life, much less what I’d do at uni.” He wondered how much he meant that anymore.</p><p>Phil smiled sadly, then shook his head. “Come on, I wanna show you the real reason I was late.” Once he had Dan’s attention, he reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of Malibu. “I had to wait until my parents had gone to sleep to grab this.” At Dan’s gobsmacked look, he grinned. “Oh, come on. You don’t really think I forgot you’re turning 18 tonight, did you?”</p><p>Dan grinned and flushed happily, feeling the warmth fill his chest as well. “Course I didn’t think you forgot. I sure did, though.”</p><p>Phil laughed as he poured them a couple plastic cups and checked his watch. He held the cups just out of Dan’s greedy reach until the clock struck midnight, and they listened to the faint bells in town’s chimes fade and settle in the air. “Happy birthday, Dan,” he said softly, handing over the cup.</p><p>Dan took the cup in both his hands and held it up with a wry “Cheers,” before taking a long sip. The sweet coconut taste rushed his mouth and enveloped his tongue in a way that was both familiar and exciting. When Phil had turned 18 earlier in the year, they’d stayed in all weekend and gotten more than a little tipsy with Malibu and video games, but they hadn’t had a chance to have any more since then. At least, Dan hadn’t.</p><p>As soon as they finished their cups, they were abandoned in return for simply passing the bottle back and forth, getting softer and sillier with each sip. Dan decided that Malibu tasted like birthdays, and when he told Phil this, the other boy giggled so hard Dan was worried he’d fall right off the roof. “I love you, Dan,” he sighed, bringing one hand up to cup Dan’s cheek.</p><p>Dan harshly bit his lower lip as Phil started slowly passing his thumb back and forth over Dan’s cheekbone. “Mate, I can’t believe you’re already this tossed,” he said, forcing his lips into an almost painful grin. “We were both a full bottle in before you got to this point last time.”</p><p>“‘m not drunk,” Phil corrected, closing his eyes. He gently pulled Dan’s face forward to press their foreheads together. “I love you so much, Dan. I’m not going to York without saying it.”</p><p>“I- yeah,” Dan choked out. “You’re- you’re my best friend. I love you, too.”</p><p>“I don’t wanna be your friend.”</p><p>The world held its breath along with Dan as he softly, oh so softly, said, “Then what do you want?”</p><p>Phil opened his eyes again and stared directly into Dan’s. “I wanna kiss you.”</p><p>“Then do it.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Another Fashion Show</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>All right! The next four fics are about parent Phan, featuring my OCs Rose and Zach. I will sorely miss them :')</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings - Does a teen with a sewing machine count?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rose went through several phases growing up. There was the usual horse phase, a phase for just about every instrument she could put her hands on, and one where she was convinced that she wanted to be a chemist and mixed together every caustic liquids she found. She always put forth every ounce of her considerable pasion behind each and every one of them and Dan and Phil made sure to support her the best they could. Sometimes support meant paying for lessons, and sometimes it meant hiding the more dangerous cleaning supplies and hoping she wouldn’t find them. Now at 14, her current fixation was fashion, so Dan and Phil bought her a few books and a sewing machine and let her have free reign.<b><br/></b></p><p>Then there were the fashion shows.</p><p>Every time there was a fashion show anywhere in the world, Rose glued herself to the screen the entire time, sharp blue eyes taking in every detail of the dresses and other walking art pieces. Then she’d lock herself in her room for days, only coming out to eat and go to school, and then things were back to normal.</p><p>It was about eight months into this when Rose walked in with wild hair and a wilder smile. “I’ve made things for all of you,” she announced, puffing her chest out. “And I want to host a fashion show for them all.”</p><p>“Finally my time to shine,” Dan grinned and beside him Phil snorted into his coffee.</p><p>“Me too?” Zach asked almost cautiously, narrowing their eyes at Rose.</p><p>“Yeah, but don’t worry, I only made stuff that you asked for,” Rose said. Zach breathed a sigh of relief and Dan and Phil exchanged looks. Zach had been the only one allowed in Rose’s room and was therefore the only one who knew exactly what she had made.</p><p>“Who should go first?” Phil asked.</p><p>Rose bit her lower lip in thought. “Everyone at the same time,” she decided. “I put all your clothes in your rooms, so hurry!” With that, everyone was shooed out of the lounge and they could hear her shoving furniture around, most likely to make a runway.</p><p>Dan and Phil walked into their room to see the outfits Rose had made them and laughed. They each had one very pretty dress (Phil’s seemed to be cobbled together out of several different colorful patterns while Dan’s was black and silver) and matching sets of what seemed to be ponchos with large painted styrofoam balls glued to it and a pair of parachute pants covered in patches of fur.</p><p>“We have the best kids ever,” Dan grinned, tugging the poncho over his head.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Phil Is Neurotic, But What Else Is New?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings - None!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Phil smiled at Dan as he stood up to step to the restroom, but as soon as Dan was gone his phone was out and he was furiously texting. <em>Hey, Matt! Just checking in! How’s Zach?</em></p><p>Phil knew he was being silly. Dan had thoroughly vetted the uni student before letting him anywhere near their baby. Dan had been very specific with his demands of their babysitter. They had to be a med student focusing on pediatric care of some kind, have good grades, and come prepared to an interview with a letter of recommendation. Phil had thought the whole thing was a little unnecessary, after all, who held interviews for a babysitter? The answer: Dan, obviously. They had both assumed Dan would be anxious the whole evening, but as soon as Matt picked Zach up and cooed at him, Dan nearly collapsed in relief and didn’t think anything more of it.</p><p>Phil was another story. He’d been perfectly calm picking a babysitter, and leaving for the night, but as soon as he sat down in the back of the cab a feeling of dread washed over him and he couldn’t shake it. He’d been sneakily texting Matt all night for updates on Zach, all of which were positive. But no amount of assurances that his baby was safe and sound made any difference to him.</p><p>Fortunately, another requirement for the job was a quick response time to texts. <em>Hey, Mr. Lester! Zach’s doing great! He’s been sleeping the whole time.</em></p><p>
  <em>Great! Can you send me a picture?? </em>
</p><p>Before he could hit send, a hand closed over his phone and lowered it into his lap. Dan leaned down and kissed him gently, and when the kiss was over, he stayed where he was, smile brushing Phil’s lips. “Zach’s fine. Let it go, love.”</p><p>Phil smiled and hummed as Dan pulled away. “Yeah, you’re right.”</p><p>He hit send as soon as Dan wasn’t looking.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Zach Gets A Haircut</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings - Sappy dads alert!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You get a notification on your phone. <em>LessAmazingPhil has just uploaded a video. Zach’s First Haircut!</em> Without thinking about it, you plug in your earbuds and open the video. You figure cleaning the kitchen can wait a minute and a half.</p><p>The camera zooms in on Dan who is trying to pet down Zach’s curls and completely ignoring Phil. The camera is shaky, but it’s a LessAmazingPhil video, and those are always a little shaky in Phil’s hands. “We’re taking Zach to get his first haircut today!” Phil announces from off screen.</p><p>Thanks to the zoom, you can just barely see Dan roll his eyes before he says, “Quit making it sound so dramatic. He’s just getting the scraggly bits chopped off. I don’t even know why you’re filming this.”</p><p>The camera turns to Phil, but Phil forgot to zoom out, so you get a very good shot of the inside of Phil’s nostril. Again, you’re used to this. “It’s a momentous occasion, right guys? Zach’s practically a grown man after today!”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. Help me get him strapped into his wagon.”</p><p>The camera cuts and now you see that the three of them are in a brightly colored children’s salon. Dan is standing with the stylist next to the chair Zach is strapped into, gesturing to explain what they want for Zach’s hair. “I think Dan might wind up taking the scissors and do it himself,” Phil mutters, the sound crackly and filling your earbuds. His voice was low, but apparently Dan still heard him because he flipped him off, much to the amusement of the stylist.</p><p>Dan eventually sits down and you’re treated to the highlights of Zach’s first haircut. You notice he’s very still the whole time, even when the hair dryer comes out. Dan and Phil also notice, and comment several times about how good Zach is being and Dan claims he isn’t surprised at all because Zach is always the perfect baby. The camera zooms in and out on Dan’s face at close range and Phil teases, “Hey, Dan? Think you’re gonna cry when this is all over?”</p><p>Dan rolls his eyes and shoves the camera out of his face.</p><p>The camera cuts again, and Dan is standing in front of a strange contraption with Zach in his arms. The stylist explains that this is where they turn hair into prizes if the kid was good. Phil loudly exclaims that his childhood salon had one too, and Dan gets Zach to watch as he puts in the tiny amount of baby hairs and pulls a lever. After some cartoony bells and whistles, Dan reaches in and reveals a tiny rubber duck, which he gives to Zach. </p><p>You watch as Dan smugly turns to the camera. “Aw, Phil, looks like you were wrong. Here we are at the end of the haircut and I didn’t cry once.”</p><p>The camera switches to Phil who rolls his eyes, and says, “Alright, fine. I lost. I’ll order the pizza and answer the door.”</p><p>The video fades to black and you almost close the video, but you glance down and notice there’s still almost twenty seconds of footage left. You decide to wait.</p><p>Seconds later, your patience is rewarded when Phil’s face fills the screen. He’s sat on the sofa in the lounge grinning like the cat who got the cream. His arm is hanging over something out of frame, and you assume it’s Dan’s shoulders. “Guys, you’ll never guess what I found when I came into the lounge earlier,” Phil near giggles, his voice soft and deep like it never is on his main channel. He pulls his arm closer and Dan falls into his side, very clearly only just recovered from a good crying session. “Looks like someone <em>did</em> cry over the haircut after all!”</p><p>“You’re the worst,” Dan whines, his voice just as soft as Phil’s. “Besides, Zach’s growing up right in front of us. How do I not cry over that?”</p><p>Phil laughs and presses a kiss to Dan’s damp cheek, and the screen goes blank for real. You bite your lip and stare at the phone in your hand. Maybe the kitchen can wait another minute and a half.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. It's Another Threefer!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You saw the title! Someone gave me three prompts and I apparently couldn't pick.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings - Rose is a terrible child</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>2. Who can always get the baby to sleep? Phil</b>
</p><p>Phil was always the one who managed to get Zach to fall asleep when he was having a bad night. There were nights when the tiny baby’s asthma would act up and he’d cough and wheeze and cry. Dan would coo and rock him and pet his hair, but he’d eventually admit that it was time to hand him over to Phil. Phil claimed he had no idea what he was doing, but he’d just hold Zach close to his chest and hum while he slowly swayed in place. Almost immediately, Zach’s cries would simmer down and within ten minutes, he was sound asleep. Phil would put Zach in his cradle, then climb in bed and wrap Dan up in his long noodle limbs. With his head resting on Phil’s chest and feeling the vibration of every word Phil said, Dan completely understood how Zach fell asleep so quickly.</p><p>
  <b>5. Who does better bedtime story voices? Dan</b>
</p><p>“Dan, quit laughing and get on Skype,” Phil hissed down the phone. “Rose is demanding you read the bedtime story, and I think she’s about to lead Zach in a revolution and overthrow me while you’re gone.”</p><p>Dan did not quit laughing. Usually, Dan’s laughter was one of Phil’s favorite sounds, but not right now. “<em>What are you talking about? You’re great at reading.”</em></p><p>“Yeah, but you do those voices,” Phil pointed out. “Right now, Rose is chanting, and I quote, ‘Give me voices or give me death.’ You have to get on Skype.”</p><p>“<em>But I don’t have any books with.”</em></p><p>“For fuck’s sake, Dan, your job is on the internet. Buy one on the Kindle or something.”</p><p>Dan laughed again, the sound soft and gentle. “<em>Alright then. I’ll buy a book, you go get the laptop set up.”</em></p><p>“God, I love you.”</p><p>
  <b>10. Who is more likely to lose their child in public? They’re equally likely to lose Rose.</b>
</p><p>Neither Dan, nor Phil were super fond of Christmas shopping, which is why they did most of their shopping online. Unfortunately, at seven and nine, Zach and Rose couldn’t quite figure out what they wanted unless it was right in front of them. So, they had all piled into the car and driven down to the busy shops and Phil had taken Rose to buy Zach and Dan’s gifts while Dan had taken Zach to buy Phil and Rose’s things and they were going to meet for dinner and swap kids. Dan and Zach had very successfully found what they were after and were now picking and Chinese food and waiting. </p><p>Dan looked up to see Phil coming towards them, but when he looked at Phil’s side, Rose wasn’t there. “She ran off again?” He said it as a question, but they both knew the answer. </p><p>“Yeah, I was hoping she went looking for you,” Phil sighed.</p><p>“Don’t worry about it. You sit here with Zach and I’ll go get security to call for her.” Dan stood, pressed a kiss to Zach’s head, and started towards the security booth. </p><p>Before he even made it there, he saw a very familiar cloud of blonde curls and a wide toothy grin. “You found me!” she beamed. </p><p>“Alondra Rose, you are in so much trouble,” Dan groaned, heaving her up to climb on his back. He checked with the security guard, who didn’t even realize she’d been sitting there, and made his way back to the food court, daughter in tow. </p><p>This wasn’t the first or last time this would happen.</p>
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